Antithesis
by kateydidnt
Summary: WARNING: NOt a chapter, but a little cookie, an excerpt from the next chapter: see note inside.
1. Divination

Antithesis

Chapter 1-Divination

_Two, never together._

_One light._

_One dark._

_Two, never together._

_One past._

_One path to light._

_One path to dark._

_Two, never together._

_Two futures._

_One choice._

_One fate._

_Two, never together._

_Two worlds._

_Two choices._

_Two futures._

_Two, never together._

_                        —Cloydenestra's last prophecy, July 31, 1920_

            Seventeen-year-old Harry Potter blinked groggily in the sunlight filtering through the window, wondering why he had been allowed to sleep so late. _Oh,_ he remembered, reaching for his glasses, _you're at Mrs. Figg's today and tomorrow._  The Dursley's had taken a weekend excursion with Vernon's boss and left Harry with the cat-lady.  The house still smelled like cats and cabbage, but it was better than at Number 4.  Mrs. Figg had only needed his assistance once (to retrieve a cat from a tree) and let him do what he wanted, as long as it didn't bother her. 

Harry sighed and sat up in bed, slowly willing himself to get up and get dressed.  Tucking in Dudley's too big shirt he made his way downstairs.  "Mrs. Figg?" he called entering the kitchen to find it deserted.  A note on the table fluttered in the breeze coming in the window.

_Harry- _

_Gone grocery shopping and then to bingo game.  _

_I will be back around 3 pm._

Oh, right, Saturday was bingo day. So today he was free to finish up his homework.  Good thing too, considering tomorrow morning Mrs. Figg was taking him into London to catch the Hogwart's Express (well, _she_ didn't know it was to catch the Hogwart's Express).

Harry ate a quick bowl of cereal for breakfast and then returned to the room he was staying in to work.  He groaned as he pulled out his books as he reminded himself that he still had to do his Divination work (_Using tea leaves, predict your own future.  Using your non-dominant hand predict your future from the lines.  Compare and contrast._ And _Read Chapter 28 in Modern Prophecies and their Interpretations and summarize, be ready for a quiz on it._), his Herbology essay (_Explain the differences between Aconite, Wolfsbane, and Monkshood_), and Potions essay (_Write a five foot essay on what potions are made from a base of Mandrake leaves and streeler juice)_. 

He looked again at the Herbology assignment, _wait a minute, didn't Snape tell us first year they are the same?_  Maybe it was a trick question.  He started flipping through the text and found, to his disappointment, it was not a trick question.  There were indeed differences, so much for Snape. However, he finished that quickly enough.

He moved on to his Divination work and finished up the first section even faster than his Herbology work (four years had given him plenty of practice in making up futures).  He opened up Modern Prophecies and their Interpretations to chapter 28 and found it entitled "Prophecies of Light and Dark."  To his great dismay, Harry found that the chapter was 50 pages long.  Grumbling about crazy mumbo-jumbo and how Hermione had been right to drop the class, he soon found himself engrossed in the book.  The prophecies, mostly somewhat vague, were picked apart in great detail and Harry began to see the riddles as puzzles and began enjoying himself.  He even attempted to figure out one or two himself before reading the professional Diviner's opinions and conclusions.  

He was reading and re-reading one riddle by Cloydenestra talking about "The Monster and the White One."

_The White One, young._

_The Monster, old._

_The White One will lead._

_The Monster will fall._

_The Monster's blood shall be mixed._

_The White One's blood shall be pure._

_The Monster and the White One _

_A duel of fate._

_One shall die._

_One shall live._

"Well that doesn't make any sense," Harry muttered to himself, "it says 'the White Ones will lead' and 'The Monster will fall,' but that last part says ones dies and one lives, like it isn't sure which one will die."  He studied it a little longer trying to figure it out and then gave up and turned the page to read what the experts had to say.

_This prophecy is one of the easier ones to interpret.  _

_First we will examine what we know already about the White one and the Monster and then find the proof behind the conclusions drawn._

_The White One obviously represents a light wizard, who is younger than the Monster.  The White One is a pureblood.  This could mean two things: a) the White One is a member of a very old wizarding family or b) both parents are magical. _

_The Monster is clearly not a pureblood, meaning, again, two possibilities: a) the Monster is born of Muggle parentage or b) born of a Muggle—Wizard union._

_It has long been established that the White One is Albus Dumbledore and the Monster was Heraldo Grindlewald._

_Starting from this premise, we shall examine how it fits._

_The Latin word "albus" means "white," an easy enough connection.  _

_Grindlewald was indeed older than Dumbledore._

_Albus Dumbledore is a pureblood with a line going all the way back to Merlin himself. Grindlewald was the son of a wizard and his muggle mistress._

_In 1935 Albus Dumbledore became the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, while that same year Grindlewald fell from grace in the eyes of the Order for experimenting with Unforgivable Curses.  It was from that point that Grindlewald delved deeper into the Dark Arts and became a Dark Lord._

_In 1945 Albus Dumbledore and Heraldo Grindlewald fought one of the most famous duels in history, one living, one dying._

_Looking deeper into the name "The Monster" we look to history's monsters.  We find in wizarding history (and Muggle epic poetry, although the story is distorted) a hero who slew a monster._

_The hero, a virtuous brave young man (another reference to 'white,' long seen as a symbol of purity and virtue) is named Beowulf.  The monster is named Grendle._

_Coincidence, that Gridlewald so closely resembles Grendle? Not a chance._

_There has been little dispute since 1950 about the interpretation of this prophecy as presented herein._

"Well, I wouldn't have figured that one out." Harry said and turned the page to read Cloydenestra's last prophecy, often called the Antithesis Prophecy or the Prophecy of Opposites.

_Two, never together._

_One light._

_One dark._

_Two, never together._

_One past._

_One path to light._

_One path to dark._

_Two, never together._

_Two futures._

_One choice._

_One fate._

_Two, never together._

_Two worlds._

_Two choices._

_Two futures._

_Two, never together._

Harry looked at it again "I'm not even going to try."  So he turned the page to see the experts' ideas. To his disappointment, there was no definitive answer of what it meant.  However, Harry noticed that the prophecy was given on July 31st, his birthday.

Then he shuddered, remembering something he had learned the year before: Voldemort had the same birthday as Harry.

"That is really freaky." He declared and Hedwig hooted in agreement.  He got up and fed her and then turned back to the explanation of the Antithesis Prophecy.

_This prophecy has been one of the most debated prophecies of the twentieth century, since its prediction in 1920.  There have been no conclusive answers either, as to what it means._

_We will look at it stanza by stanza in order to attempt to unravel its mysteries._

_Stanza 1_

_Two, never together._

_One light._

_One dark._

_Two, never together._

The constant refrain throughout the entire riddle of 'Two, never together' is where it got it's name from.  It suggests two wizards who are each other's antithesis and nemesis, that the two cannot be allies, ever.  One will be light, the other dark.

Stanza 2

_One past._

_One path to light._

_One path to dark._

_Two, never together._

The 'one past' has two interpretations.  The first is that the two wizards will have similar pasts, the second is that the 'past' refers only to the history of one of the two.  The second explanation fits best with the rest of the stanza.  If it refers to one of the two's past it means that he will come to a crossroads in his life where he will find one path or choice that will set him on the path of light and one that will set him on the path of darkness.

Stanza 3

_Two futures._

_One choice._

_One fate._

_Two, never together._

This stanza supports the conclusion that the 'one past' refers to only one of the two, and not to a shared past.  The 'two futures' are the two people that are affected by what came from the 'one past' where there is a path of good and a path of evil.  The one referred to with 'one past' who decides which path he takes is the one referred to in 'one choice.' Because the two can never be on the same side, the first one makes a choice, while the second one must follow fate and be on the opposite side.  If the first chooses the path of light, the second will inevitably become a dark wizard and vice versa.

Stanza 4

_Two worlds._

_Two choices._

_Two futures._

_Two, never together._

The 'two worlds' are the two different worlds created by each of the 'two choices.' If the one chooses good, he creates one world; if he chooses bad, he creates the other.  The 'two futures' signifies that whichever choice he makes he will affect his own future and the future of his antithesis, because they are 'two, never together.'

Harry blinked rapidly a few times, looking at the prophecy again.  "Weird," he shook his head and muttered finally closing the book (that was the last prophecy in the chapter) and pulled out his Potions text.  He became so involved in trying to write a good essay for Professor Snape that he only noticed what time it was when his stomach growled.  His watch (compliments of Sirius for his birthday) showed it was 2:45.

"Mrs. Figg should be back soon," he mused as he stood in the kitchen spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread.

Pouring a glass of milk he took the sandwich and cup back up to the guestroom to try and finish up his Potions essay.  At 3:30 he finished.  "I wonder where Mrs. Figg is," he said, standing and collecting all his books and parchment to replace them in his trunk.

As he turned toward his open trunk a searing pain shot through his scar causing him to drop his books and stumble back into the desk, knocking the glass to the floor and spilling what was left of the milk onto the carpet.

"Well, what are your conclusions, Wormtail?"

"Ma…master, it i…is ob-vi…vious the prophe-phecy refers t…to you and th…the boy."

"That much I knew Wormtail."  Voldemort's voice was icy in a way that could only suggest that Wormtail would get quite hot in a second. "You are supposed to tell me if my plan might possibly work!  Can you imagine how my power would increase if the boy would indeed join me?"

"I sh..shall try ha…hard…der."

"I'm sure you will, Crucio!"

Harry opened his eyes again, feeling the pain in his scar ebbing away.  It had been a long time since Voldemort had revealed any good tidbits for Dumbledore, he had somehow figured out that revealing information while he was agitated led to Harry seeing what was going on and therefore he had curtailed all the important information for times when he wasn't feeling so murderous.

Immediately Harry wrote to his godfather and Dumbledore detailing the dream.  Just seconds after letting Hedwig go, Mrs. Figg arrived home.  Last minute packing and revisions on homework kept Harry up for a while so he was rushed the next morning.

Grunting as he loaded everything into Mrs. Figg's old junk-mobile, he glanced at his watch and breathed a sigh of relief, he would make it in time.

Then there was a traffic jam and Harry almost didn't make it on time.


	2. Charms

A/N: I apologize that this was so hard to read before.  It was formatted all nice as a Word Document, but for some reason the formatting into proper paragraphs etc.  didn't follow the text when I uploaded it.  Hopefully, now that I've reformatted it into HTML format it will be easier to read.

Chapter 2-Charms

Panting heavily Harry pulled his trunk-and-Hedwig-loaded trolley through the throngs of Kings Cross and glanced at his watch.  He had about five minutes to get onto the platform. Approaching the barrier between nine and ten he trotted toward the solid wall and….

Harry stared around him in amazement (and embarrassment) at a screeching Hedwig, whose cage had fallen onto the concrete, at his now upside down trunk and the over turned trolley, one wheel of which was spinning wildly.

"Bloomin' idiot," sneered a guard while a number of people snickered.

"Er…sorry, lost control of the trolley," Harry said, his mind frantic with this new development.

_Last time it was Dobby, but why can't I go through the barrier now?_ Harry wondered hurriedly gathering his things back onto the trolley and making tracks to the most secluded place he could find.

Scribbling a note furiously he tied it to Hedwig's leg and sent her off to Dumbledore.  Then he went back into the station, trying to inconspicuously prod the wall.  To his surprise, his hand went through.  Glancing around, he then disappeared into the wall.

As platform 9 ¾ materialized, he realized that now it wouldn't do any good, as there was no gleaming engine, nor any students eager to start on their journeys. He looked around trying to find another person.  There was nobody.  Walking over to a desk labeled TOURIST INFORMATION he rang a small bell sitting on the desk.

An old man appeared, "How can I help you?"

"I…well I missed my train, the Hogwarts Express."

The man clicked his tongue, "Second one today.  You can wait in the waiting room over there.  I'll just notify Professor Dumbledore that transportation arrangements need to be made for the two of you." And he turned back to the little room he had come out of.  Harry, on the other hand, went in the direction the man had indicated where the waiting room was.  He wondered who else had missed the train.  Had the barrier blocked them too?

Turning in the entryway he saw Ron Weasley sitting on a couch.

"Ron!"  The red head looked up and broke into a smile.

"There you are Harry!  I missed the train because I was looking for you.  Why were you late?"

"I wasn't late when I got to the station, I just couldn't go through the barrier."

"Like second year?" Ron asked eyes widening.

"Yeah, only I tried again this time and I got through, but the train had already left.  Where's your stuff?"

"On the train, of course.  I looked in every car and didn't find you so I got back off.  I even went back into the Muggle part.  That's how I missed the train."

"Well, I'm glad I don't have to wait here alone for other transportation.  And, before you make any suggestions like the one you made last time, we are not going to do anything like that.  We are just going to wait this time." 

"That's just as well, I guess, I have no desire to be expelled now, after lasting six years."

"Exactly," Harry said promptly and maneuvered the trolley closer to the couch Ron was sitting on.  Hand resting on the trolley handle, Harry plopped onto the seat and started to open his trunk.  "What did you make of the Divination homework?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Trelawney is an old bat."

"But, didn't you find the reading interesting?"

Ron shrugged, "Not particularly."

"I found the last two prophecies talked about really interesting."

"Remind me which two?" Ron said for the sake of conversation.

"_The White One and the Monster_ and the Antithesis prophecy."

"Sorry, don't remember.  I must have fallen asleep before that point last night."

Harry rolled his eyes and picked his robes out of the truck, intending to change as soon as possible.

The old man came in to the waiting room and said, "Your headmaster will be sending a teacher to escort you to school."

Harry opened his mouth to thank the man but at that moment he felt a familiar tug at his naval.

As the portkey activated he saw Ron pointing his wand at the old man, and the old man crumble to the ground.

When his feet hit the ground, trunk thumping next to him, his scar burst into pain.

A/N: sorry this chapter is so short.


	3. Potions

Chapter 3-

            Harry heard Voldemort's quiet laugh through the fog of pain in his head.  _No, _he thought, _this can't be happening.  Please, tell me that this is not happening.  How did this happen._ Harry recalled the last thing he had seen. _Ron had been cursing the old man.  No! That wasn't Ron, couldn't have been!  _Then another thought crossed his mind, _but he acted just like Ron.  He knew about the barrier second year._ Harry's heart was sinking.  There was a faint pop beside him and 'Ron' appeared.  Harry gave a small sigh of relief inside himself; Ron couldn't apparate.  Couldn't be Ron.

            "I'm surprised," Voldemort hissed (in English), "you actually managed to do something right."

            'Ron' bowed down before Voldemort and answered, "Thank you master."

Harry felt sick to his stomach; he suddenly lunged for his trunk in order to get his wand.

_"Impedamentia!"_ Voldemort's voice called out.  Harry started moving in slow motion, but he could perceive everything around him with perfect clarity, but it was all going on so fast that his slow body could not react.

            "Harry Potter, I could easily kill you right now and feed you to Nagini," Voldemort said turning to him, "but I will give you a chance.  Join me, imagine the power we could have, imagine how unstoppable we'd be if we combined our efforts.  I am giving you the chance to share in the glory of ruling the world Harry Potter, and I will give you one week to answer.  While you decide you will be my guest."

            If Harry could have shivered, he would have, he did not like the way Voldemort said he would be his guest.  Voldemort lifted his wand to Harry and whispered some words.

With a sudden jerking motion Harry found himself in a cell.  Three of the walls were stone; one had a big iron door in the middle of it.  The fourth side of the room had metal bars all the way across it and Harry could see a cell the mirror image of his.  He surveyed the contents of his cell.  There was a cot that had a half-decent mattress, but extremely infested blanket lay on top of it.  In one corner stood a water-basin beside something that Harry could only guess was the necessary.  A black curtain hung on his side of the bars, far enough back so he could cover his side of the bars but a person in the other cell could not reach to cover the open space.  So Harry was allowed privacy, but whoever was supposed to be in the other cell couldn't have privacy?  Harry was extremely confused now.  Why all of this in the first place?

            A loud thud startled Harry and he whirled away from the black curtain and saw…

His trunk.  It was now sitting beside the cot, a piece of parchment stuck to it. Harry cautiously approached it.  He stood, reading the note, without touching it.

            _Harry Potter,_

_I have taken the liberty of providing you with more suitable reading materials.  Feel free to try anything you like.  You have your wand; I have not taken it from your trunk.  However, I tell you now, you cannot escape.  None of the unlocking spells you know, or will be able to find can help you open the door.  If you choose not to believe me in this, well, go ahead and try if you like.  I will even tell you how to unlock the door._

_            Kill the person in the next cell and the door will automatically unlock._

_            I invite you to have some fun and games with your friend in the next cell.  _He _will not be able to escape in any way at all._

_            Lord Voldemort_

            Harry took out his wand and attempted in everyway he knew to open the door, but had no success.  Then, still holding his wand in his hand, he attempted to unlock the door with wandless magic.  Finally he gave up and replaced his wand in the trunk, closing the lid.

_Of course,_ thought Harry, _he knows I won't kill, even if it means I could escape.  So I will never be able to escape._ Harry turned away from the trunk and sat down glumly on the cot.

            A few minutes later a second thud followed by a whimper alerted him to the fact that whoever the "friend in the next cell" was had arrived.

            Looking over to the bars Harry saw Ron Weasley.  Deciding to stay silent and watch until 'Ron' did something to indicate if he was the real Ron or not, Harry settled into a more comfortable position to view the next cell.

            The other occupant seemed not to notice Harry's presence and sat down on his own cot, and huddled up into a ball.

            Ten minutes later 'Ron' started to change.   The red hair became duller and receded up the forehead. The figure shrank a few inches in height while adding a few in circumference.  Freckles disappeared into pale skin and the next thing Harry knew he was looking into two little watery black eyes.

Peter Pettigrew sat in the next cell.

_Kill the person in the next cell and the door will automatically unlock._  Harry shivered and was glad that he did not have his wand in hand at the moment; if he had, Pettigrew would have been dead already.

Peter stared at him for a minute and then buried his face in his arms so he wouldn't have to see Harry's look of disgust.

"What did Voldemort tell you?"  Harry finally asked.

Peter looked at him in surprise, as though he had expected the first words out of his mouth to be "Avada Kedavra" and not a question.  The man gulped, trying to find his voice.

"H…he told m..me everyth…thing in y…your letter."

Harry nodded and then turned away from him and re-read the letter.

He _will not be able to escape in any way at all._  Obviously there were enchantments to keep Peter from transforming or slipping through the bars as a rat and he didn't have a wand. 

Pondering this, Harry remembered how Wormtail's silver hand had been able to deflect curses last year.  Looking back over at the once Marauder, Harry saw that instead of the silver hand, Peter had a useless stump.

Harry stood up, crossed over his small cell and closed the curtain between the two cells.  He had no intention of killing, even if it was Peter, but that did not mean he was going to put up with the traitor.

He moved back over to his trunk and cautiously opened it.  He found that, other than a few Dark Arts books Voldemort had…_so kindly_…provided, all his possessions were there, unharmed.  He looked at the titles of the books: Necromancy; The Killing Curse: A Step by Step Guide; Harnessing Your Deepest Darkest Powers; Salazar: A Slytherin History. There were more, in all ten books.  This time he pocketed his wand.

Giving in to curiosity Harry opened up Necromancy after looking at the first two pages he quickly shut it again.

_It's a little cold in here_, he thought with a grim smile on his face. He gathered all the books that Voldemort provided him with and put them in a pile.  After carefully placing a containment charm around the books, he then lit a bonfire.  Then he went to sleep (after making sure his cot was clean of little critters).

A chime a few hours later awoke Harry.  Sitting up he found a tray with food floating in midair.  He was hungry, but he was not a fool, so after checking to see that the food was safe to eat he dug in.  He quickly cleaned the plate and it disappeared immediately.

He heard a retching sound coming from the next cell.  _What on earth?_ He tiptoed over and peeked through the curtain.  Pettigrew's food was, evidently, a cup of dirty water and a slice of very…_green_ bread.  No wonder he was choking.  Harry looked on for a few moments in loathing as the man then started gasping and clutching at his throat.  

_Serves him right,_ Harry thought as Pettigrew tried to cough up whatever was blocking his airway.

****************

Peter was frantic; the moldy bread had gotten lodged in his throat.  It felt like it had turned solid as soon as it entered his body just so that it would choke him, which he might have concluded as true, Voldemort _would_ do that kind of thing, if he had had a moment to think.

However, thinking-while-choking-and-dying was not one of Peter Pettigrew's strong points.

He started to get light-headed, and then he blacked out.

****************

Harry watched the whole drama unfold.  He didn't feel an ounce of pity for the man.  He could choke to death and Harry would cheer.

_Kill the man in the next cell and the door will automatically unlock._  The words echoed in his head from Voldemort's letter.

_And even if he dies and Voldemort doesn't see it as you killing him, _you _would still feel guilty, _a small voice in his head said.

Cursing Voldemort with all his might Harry lifted his wand and performed the Up-chuck curse on Pettigrew.

He smiled to himself at this _I can't let him die, but I don't have to make his survival fun or comfortable either._

Peter convulsed and all the contents of his stomach, including what was stuck in his esophagus, spewed out all over himself.

Wrinkling his nose, Harry performed an air-sanitation spell to get rid of the smell.  He then returned to his cot.

*****************

Peter could suddenly breathe again.  Gasping for breath he sat up from his position on the floor he wondered what had happened.  He had been choking, thinking he was about to die, and then he had blacked out. 

*****************

The next morning chimes once again awoke a slumbering Harry for food.  He grabbed the plate and set it on his bed and immediately crossed over to the curtain and peeked around it.  Sure enough, there was a plate for Wormtail with some very unappetizing food.

Wormtail was eyeing it, his hunger apparent on his face, but unwilling to have a repeat of yesterday's performance.

Harry quickly checked the food from where he stood and found that the water had a trace of a boils curse and that the sorry looking thing that Harry supposed was meat had a time-delayed Up-Chuck curse.  Considering this Harry sighed inside himself, an internalized boils curse, added to the acids in the stomach and the further irritation caused by the vomit coming back up and already boil filled esophagus, could rip the lining of both the stomach and throat, causing the boils to spread and rupture other organs, causing Wormtail to bleed to death internally.

Voldemort really had nasty ways to kill people.  Removing the curses from both the water and meat Harry then spoke up "It's safe to eat." And before Wormtail could respond Harry had returned to eat his own food, bacon, toast and milk.

"Ha..Harry?" Wormtail's voice interrupted Harry's thoughts.  "Wh…hy?"  Harry didn't answer, instead he put a silencing spell on Wormtail's larynx; he really did not want to talk to him.

Wormtail evidently got the idea because when the spell wore off two hours later, he didn't attempt to speak to Harry again.

Meanwhile, Harry started going through his seventh year textbooks and the other books he had.  He was actually surprised to find that Voldemort had not removed the Heirs' book.  Voldemort would have found it containing instructions on how to develop his Slytherin abilities to their fullest.

Harry guessed he did not know the full extent of what the book was.

*****************

The rest of the week Harry checked Wormtail's food every morning (they were only fed once a day) and saved him from various painful deaths, including an incendiary hex on a piece of toast (that would have burnt his throat completely and then spread to the lungs), a engorgement charm on a pancake (that would have enlarged Wormtail's stomach to the point where it would explode out of his chest) and a solidifying solution mixed in one of his drinks (that would have turned his tongue to stone, causing him to choke and suffocate).

He also checked his own food every morning for any ill effects it might have, but to his great surprise, he never found anything.

On the morning of September the eighth three masked men opened the door of Harry's cell and before he could do anything they had disarmed him and conjured up shackles.

A sense of dread twisted in Harry's stomach as he felt the cold metal on his wrists and ankles.  There was even a length of metal around his neck attached to a metal rod that was five feet long.  One of the Death Eaters grabbed the other end of the rod and started to lead Harry along while another stayed in back, wand pointed at Harry's back the entire time.  The third Death Eater retrieved all of Harry's belongings and levitated them at the rear of the procession.

Harry was lead from his cell and through the huge structure that Harry had only seen his small dungeon of.  He had no clue where he was and whenever he tried to see the stone structure in detail the "leash" around his neck was yanked, making him stumble.

After ten minutes Harry noticed the pain in his scar starting again.  For the most part during his stay in his cell, his scar was not hurting.

Now it was throbbing; they were definitely getting closer. As they entered a large room Harry's scar exploded and he let out a small gasp at the excruciating pain.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort addressed Harry as he was lead over to a wall and chained to it.  The rod attached to the band around his neck disappeared and was replaced by links connected to the wall so he could not move his head more than six inches from the wall.

"You have been given a week to think about my proposition.  Will you combine your power with mine so that we may be unconquerable?  Or will you still defy me?" Voldemort asked, seated directly in front of Harry on a throne that was made of green marble with carved snakeheads on the armrests.  "If you insist on defying me then you will suffer for it by betraying your friends' trust in you as you kill them one by one," there was a gleam in the Dark Lord's eyes that seemed a horrible travesty of Dumbledore's friendly and wise twinkle.

"So you have so stoop to threatening to hurt my friends if I do not join you?" asked Harry in a defiant tone.

Voldemort, however, grinned.  "I said that _you_ would kill them, not me.  I believe I will take that as a no answer Harry Potter.  Believe me, I think this way will be much more interesting."

Harry was afraid, he wasn't sure exactly what Voldemort was talking about and he didn't like the thoroughly pleased look on the monster's face.

"Bring the cauldron!" barked Voldemort to his minions.  Two of them quickly left the room and soon returned dragging behind them the same cauldron that Harry had seen Voldemort be born again from three years earlier.

Water was sloshing around in it, except, Harry could see, there was a slight brownish-red tint to the water.  _Blood, _Harry realized, feeling the bile rise from his stomach.

"Yes, Harry Potter, blood," Voldemort whispered, seeing the realization pass over Harry's face, "My blood in fact for this purpose."

This, oddly enough, relieved Harry somewhat; at least it wasn't the blood of someone who had been killed.

"This will be a fun little experiment Harry Potter.  You see, I've never tried this before and I only have a theory of what might happen.  If all works a planned, you'll live.  If something goes wrong…well, then I know my theory is wrong." Voldemort's voice was sending chills racing up and down Harry's spine.  Abruptly the Dark Lord waved his wand and Harry was suddenly free of the chains and being levitated towards the cauldron.  Before he could decide what to do he found himself being lowered into the cauldron.  

As his feet hit bottom, his knees collapsed. Harry caught himself on the rim of the cauldron and attempted to climb out.  He couldn't; there was an invisible barrier.

"Foolish boy, you cannot escape." Voldemort was very close and Harry forgot all about trying to climb out as his scar began to hurt anew.   Voldemort reached easily through the barrier and started to stir the bloodied water with his wand saying, "With these words, with this blood, with this power, I bind Harry Potter to me. _Morsmordre._"  The Dark Mark floated out of his wand and sat on the surface of the water.

Harry tensed, waiting for something to happen; nothing did.  He relaxed a bit as Voldemort retreated a few steps and retrieved a glass vial and a beaker from a shelf.

Pouring the beaker's contents into the cauldron, Voldemort then grabbed Harry's head.

Screaming in agony, Harry suddenly felt the vial on his lips.  Voldemort took advantage of his open mouth and poured the potion down his throat.  Then he let go of his captive's head and started once again to stir the contents of the cauldron, it had now turned a murky orange.

"Two shall be as one, powers combined, allies to rule the world.  Bind Harry Potter and his powers to the Dark and to my Mark!" Voldemort hissed and then stepped back to see what would happen.

The potion started to bubble, which was odd, because it was still cold.  But then, in a moment, Harry's skin began to burn.  It wasn't a burn of hot water, but rather the same burn he felt when Voldemort touched him, with his scar burning the most of all.  He clutched at his head and writhed in agony in the orange solution.   Harry felt a hand and it doubled the pain in his head.  The hand pushed his head under the water, so that the potion had touched every part of his body.  

Harry struggled and in his panic he swallowed some of the orange stuff, which burned all the way to his stomach.  Then the hand released him and Harry came up gasping for air.  But now breathing was painful as the ingested potion started spreading through Harry's veins.  He couldn't even scream because it hurt too much.  

Then for a moment it abated.  Harry took a raged breath.

Then he let out a blood-curdling scream, unlike any he had ever released before.  It felt like his soul was being ripped from his body, he was quickly loosing all feeling, all sense of sight, or sound.  _Am I dying?_ He thought fleetingly, before he could no longer connect to his own brain to think.  But he could still feel the pain, the wretched, all encompassing, all consuming pain.

Then he knew no more.


	4. Welcoming Feast

Chapter 4

A/N this chapter starts on the day Harry was taken, September first.  Just making sure that point is made.

To say that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was beside himself with worry was an understatement.  He was practically frantic to figure out what was going on.  If anybody had seen him in this state (Ron and Hermione didn't count, they weren't exactly noticing him at the moment) they would not have believed that this was really the calm, collected, wise old Dumbledore they all knew and respected.

He looked at the first letter and re-read it.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_            I am writing to inform you that two of your students, Misters Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter, have missed the Hogwarts Express and will need alternate transportation provided in order to reach Hogwarts._

_            Mark Shunpike, Platform 9 ¾ conductor._

That had arrived around 11:15 this morning and Dumbledore had answered it immediately and said he would come to pick the students up himself around noon.

The second letter had arrived at 11:45.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_            We thought that we should tell you that Harry is not on the Hogwarts Express.  We have searched in every compartment and throughout the entire train and have not found him.  No one remembers seeing him on the Platform or boarding the train.  He told us that he would meet us in our usual car and he never showed up._

_We hope that there is nothing wrong and that there is a simple explanation about this, but we wished to inform you just the same._

Ron and Hermione 

This had startled Dumbledore quite a bit, as he knew that Ron Weasley could not be in two places at once.  He had examined the letter again and determined that Ron Weasley had to be on the train, it was without a doubt his signature and, now that he thought of it, Ron would not have been late, because it meant seeing Hermione to be early.  

No, Ron would _not_ be late meeting Hermione, especially now.

Dumbledore had gone to Platform 9 ¾ as fast as he could, but it was already too late.  He found Mark Shunpike laying, curled up into a fetal position, on the floor near the waiting area where Ron and Harry should have been waiting for him.

Gently the headmaster had examined the man and found magical residue from the Cruciatus Curse on him.  Slowly, Dumbledore had then turned to examine the waiting area.  There was a portkey signature and an apparation signature still lingering in the air.

Turning back to the man, he'd managed to coax the story of what had happened out of the poor man.

He had received Dumbledore's answer and gone to notify the two boys that they would be able to get to Hogwarts.  Then Ron had jumped up and yelled _crucio_!  And Harry Potter had disappeared.

Dumbledore had then delivered Mark Shunpike to Madam Pomfrey's care as quickly as he could; it was now 12:15.  

After exiting the hospital wing he had drawn his wand and tapped it on his ring that bore the Hogwarts crest "Hogwarts Express" he had said clearly and had only a moment to wait before the portkey activated.

He had found that the situation on the train was less than helpful.  So instead of attempting to get anything done there, he had simply cast a protection charm over Hermione and than instructed both she and Ron hold an elbow.  Tapping the ring once again with his wand, he had said "Office."

When the three were sitting in his office he had showed them the first letter.  As Ron sat in shock, looking at the letter that said he had not caught the train.  This is where Dumbledore found himself, panicked and desperate to find Harry Potter, wondering what exactly had occurred.

At that moment a very weary Hedwig had flown in the window and deposited two letters before the headmaster.  The snowy owl then simply fell off the desk, dead.

Albus opened the first letter with slight trepidation.  It was from Harry.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_            I don't know what has happened, but I can't get through the barrier onto the Platform.  _

_Harry Potter_

The second letter was longer and much more upsetting.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_            Don't bother trying to find Harry. He has been invited to stay as a guest of the Dark Lord for a week.  You will be unable to find him- so do not even try._

_            Harry will be returned to you in a week._

_Enjoy the peace while it lasts._

Peter Pettigrew 

Hermione broke down crying when she read this, leaning on Ron in an attempt to find some support.  Ron was just as stunned and mumbled "Wormtail, he impersonated me to get Harry!"

Dumbledore could not disagree with this assessment.

***************

As the rest of the students arrived at Hogwarts that evening, Dumbledore requested an emergency meeting with all the prefects and the new Head Boy-Dean Thomas- and Head Girl- Hannah Abbot (Hermione had declined the post.  She had other things and her prefect duties were enough.)  He had notified the other staff members and the Ministry of Magic already.

"I have some very grave news.  You will not find Harry Potter among the students here tonight.  Lord Voldemort has taken him captive." There were gasps from the students, as much from the news itself as from the name. Dumbledore nodded gravely and continued, "The note that was received said Harry would be returned in a week.  I have no illusions that this will absolutely happen, I believe that it is just to get our hopes up, only to be dashed in a week." Dumbledore did not add his fear out loud that if Harry was returned in a week that it would only be his body that was returned. "I am telling you what I know, but the other students should not be told of the one week message.  I will announce that Lord Voldemort has captured Harry and that is all.  I need you, my prefects and Head Boy and Head Girl to help the other students as best you can." Dumbledore looked at the faces of the grim teenagers, even the Slytherin Prefects looked shocked or worried.  He sighed, "Let us now go to the Great Hall for the welcoming feast." The headmaster stood and exited the room.

The students followed, each pondering how they were supposed to help the other students take the news when they weren't sure how to handle it themselves.

When Albus Dumbledore stood and delivered the terrifying announcement to the students gathered before their feast, he almost couldn't control the wavering tone in his voice.

"It is to my great sorrow that I must inform you that Harry Potter has been kidnapped by Lord Voldemort.  We do not know where he is or how to find him.  The Ministry has already been told of these events and is already working to attempt to fin Harry.  I am sorry I have no better news to give you.  I encourage you to seek out a prefect or a teacher or our Head Boy or Girl if you feel you need to speak to somebody.  

"Now let us eat and begin a new school year, and hope for the safe return of Harry Potter."

The dinner conversation was severely dampened by the news and a number of frightened first years clung to their prefects in hopes that holding on to something would help them feel safer.

Ron and Hermione ate in silence and left the Great Hall as quickly as they could.  Draco Malfoy followed them.

"What else?" he asked, so pale he looked like a ghost, "What else do you know?"

Hermione started crying again and wrapped her arms around Draco.

"Wormtail disguised himself as me and transported Harry to Lord Voldemort," Ron said in a low voice, "He sent a note saying that it was useless to search for him and that he would be returned in a week."

Draco saw the problem here immediately, _but will he still be the Harry we know? Or will he be insane or dead?_ He pushed the thoughts aside as he and Ron, together, tried to comfort Hermione.

*******************

Sirius paced back and forth in Dumbledore's study, pausing every few moments to once again examine the letters lying on the headmaster's desk.  Dumbledore looked tired and worn out.

"Sirius, do you see anything that I don't.  Do you see any way that we will ever see Harry alive again?"

Sirius, an expression of fierce concentration on his face, stopped to look at the man sitting behind the desk,  "What about his lessons with Severus?"

The headmaster shook his head in sorrow, "He is still too hesitant and untrained in his powers.  They would be of almost no use to him."

Sirius resumed his pacing, determined to find hope. In a flash of inspiration he dug viciously in his pockets for a letter he had received from Harry a few days earlier.

"Albus, what about the dream he had.  Voldemort was speaking of a prophecy and asking Wormtail about it," Sirius reminded the old wizard.

Albus Dumbledore nodded his head and then fell deep in thought.  For a few minutes there was silence in the office and then the headmaster let out a strangled cry of grief, "Sirius," he rasped, "if they were talking of Harry, saying they were going to get him to join Voldemort…OH, Harry! He will most certainly die," tears were now leaking down his face.  "I think the prophecy is that of Cloydenestra, the prophecy of Opposites."

Sirius nodded, his mind entranced by the awful conversation unfolding and being paraded past his brain in living color.

"Voldemort will tempt Harry to join him. Harry can never join him though; Harry is Voldemort's Antithesis.  Harry will die if he is forced to join Voldemort because the two of them can never be united."

Sirius, remember reading the theories surrounding the Antithesis prophecy as he had studied it in school almost fainted with these revelations.

*******************

The mood in the castle was dour and depressing.  Tempers were short and some people walked about in a haze.  Ron and Hermione were seen together at all times, huddled together as though they would never let go.  Ginny was, if anything, worse because she had no one to comfort her.  She longed to see Harry one more time, to feel his lips touch hers, to see his green eyes looking deep into hers.  Draco Malfoy skipped most of his classes and holed up in his room, refusing to come out most of the time.

The worst part of it all was the not knowing.  If there had been a body, they could mourn.  If they knew _something_ then they might have known what do.

The week was the slowest that Hermione had ever known.  It did not help that she was already feeling queasy, the stress made it ten times worse.  She never felt like eating, yet she knew she couldn't afford not to eat.

Ron found his comfort in Hermione and the two never strayed more that six feet from each other.  Ron even followed her to Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, skipping Divination.

September eighth arrived and the weather outside seemed to match the mood of all those inside who knew of the letter from Wormtail; Harry would be back today, in what shape, and when or where, they did not know.

Dumbledore had someone watching the Marauder's Map at all times.  It was on Hermione's watch, around 4 in the afternoon, that a dot labeled "Harry Potter" crossed onto the grounds.

"Headmaster!" she screamed shrilly, running out into the hallway. Shaking she handed him the map.

The headmaster peered at it and found what Hermione had seen.  A look of pure elation lit his features for a moment and then he, followed by Hermione, Ron, Draco, and Sirius, ran out the doors of the castle to converge on Harry as he rounded the lake, dragging his school trunk behind him.


End file.
